


to remember me by

by questionably_fortunate_bamboo



Series: jonsa countdown 2017 [10]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jonsa Countdown, Love Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionably_fortunate_bamboo/pseuds/questionably_fortunate_bamboo
Summary: Sansa gives Jon something to remember her while he's away, and he returns the favor.(written for day ten of the jonsa countdown - remembrance)





	to remember me by

**Author's Note:**

> Goddddd this is suuuper rushed, I'm really sorry, it's late and I'm sleepy, I just got back from vacation so everything's all weird.  
> If you're reading this, I would totally recommend you read my other work instead of this. It's called 'more than the cosmos' and I worked on it for a month and a half so I really hope it's good. Better than this shit at least. You can find it here. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11433909

“Don’t look at me like that,” says Jon, glaring at Ghost. His pale direwolf doesn’t move, and holds his icy stare.  _Great_. Now he’s even being scorned by an animal.

Throwing a pair of gloves into his travel bag, he examines his chambers to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Davos has suggested to travel lightly, and Jon is accustomed to wearing the same clothes for long stretches of time. Longclaw is the true necessity of his journeys. Without it, he would’ve surely perished long ago.

A gentle knock at his door shakes him from his thoughts.

“Who’s there?”

“Sansa,” comes the muffled answer. “Can I come in?”

He lifts the bolt and opens the door. Sansa is in her nightgown and a light cloak, with her hair messily braided to the side. Her hands are clutched together, guarding a small bit of fabric. She enters his chamber, pausing a moment to rub behind Ghost’s ears.

“I was going to say goodbye to you tomorrow morning,” says Jon, “before I leave. I wasn’t going to abandon you.”

“No, it’s not that. I just wanted to make something for you,” she says, “so you can remember me while you’re away.” She holds out a piece of grey cloth, embroidered with the proud direwolf sigil of their house. The details are intricate and the stitches are perfect.

“Thank you, Sansa,” says Jon. His smile is sincere, but it fades quickly when he looks up to see the tears spilling from her eyes.

“You’ll come back to me, won’t you? You’re-” her voice breaks. “You’re the only one who keeps your promises.”

“Of course I will,” he says. She sniffs, wiping the wetness from her cheeks while the steely composure returns.

He’s leaving her, and he hates himself for it. All the things that have gone unsaid between them will burn a hole through his heart, but if he just lets himself believe for a moment that she could love him back...

 _Now or never,_  he thinks,  _now or never, now or never._   _And if his choice is never, then he will always regret it._

“Sansa…”

With painful slowness, he kisses her trembling lips. She reaches up to grab a fistful of his hair, latching onto him as if their two bodies have become one. Her lips taste sweet, like the lemon cakes she adores so much. Jon bites down on her lip, just slightly, and she moans as if he’s kissing her somewhere else entirely.

When they break apart, they’re both breathing as if they’ve run a hundred miles.

“I shouldn’t have-”

“Please, don’t,” he begs. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages, Sansa. Don’t apologize. Forgive me, if you can.”

“But what if I wanted to do that too?” she whispers. “Could you forgive me?”

Jon nearly laughs. They’ve both been so full of self-loathing that they’ve shunned the idea that they could still be  _loved._

“Oh, Jon! I just wanted to give you that stupid embroidery and now everything’s changed!” Sansa looks more annoyed than anything else. This time, he does laugh.

“Nothing’s changing. I always loved you.” He leans over to kiss her forehead for good measure, and she melts into him all over again.

“I think I always knew,” says Sansa, wrapping her arms around him. Jon savors the smell of her hair, the smoothness of her skin, her soft heartbeat against his chest. Every bit of her is intoxicating and perfect.

When he leaves in the morning, he can still taste her on his lips. It’s as good a thing as any to remember her by.


End file.
